Just Let Me Be
by forgotten child
Summary: LEGALLY BLONDE: Elle is leaving Harvard, and Emmett tries everything to stop her. Can he convince her to stay, or is he losing her forever? Just after 'Legally Blonde' song. Ellett. T to be safe. Completed!
1. Just Let Me Be

Legally Blonde the Musical

"Just Let Me Be" by forgotten child

Just after 'Legally Blonde' the song

I don't own it, otherwise I'd be seeing it on Broadway right now.

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Emmett stood outside Elle's door, holding the frame for dear life.

"Don't leave," he pleaded, cursing himself for not having expressed his feelings sooner.

Elle walked up to her side of the door, and placed her hand on the cool wood. "Some girls were just meant to smile," she choked out.

"If you can hear me, can I just say how much I want you to stay?" he pressed harder to the frame, hoping it was disappear and he could touch her.

"It's not up to me," she sniffed, "just let me be legally blonde."

Emmett could hear her sobs coming through the solid oak. "Please," he begged, "I need you to stay. Please, Elle."

The girl put her hand on the wall to steady herself. "Just go," she called.

"Elle…"

"Go!" she yelled again, falling against the wall and landing on the floor in a crumpled pile of despair.


	2. Please Don't Go

Emmett could hear her crying from his place in the hallway. He sat on the floor, his back leaning against the wall of her room. He had given up on his attempts to talk her out of leaving, and focused on figuring out what to do to stop her from going.

_She wouldn't just leave Paulette_, he thought, s_he's Elle's best friend._

He knew, however, that it made no difference to the girl. Once Elle set her mind to something, it was almost impossible to get her to feel otherwise. What Emmett needed was something to persuade her.

Should he tell her that he loves her? No. If anyone's proposal would stop her, it was Warner's. He was the reason she was here, anyway, he was the chip on her shoulder.

Emmett cursed Callahan for acting like such a complete ass. If he hadn't tried to get his way in every aspect of his life, they wouldn't be in this situation.

He sighed. He had no one to blame for this. If anyone was to be passed the buck, it was himself, for not having confessed his feeling for Elle. She had always been one to tell the truth no matter how it came out, so why couldn't he do the same?

Hours later, the door opened. Emmett jumped to his feet, and came face-to-face with a mess that once was Elle. Her eyes were swollen and red, her hair was in a messy ponytail, and she was sweatpants and sneakers. Her arms were filled with pink suitcases of various sizes.

As he stood, he startled her, and she stopped all of the bags but her purse around her shoulder, Bruiser nestled inside. "Emmett," she whispered, but he couldn't tell if it was in relief, or disappointment.

"Elle, please, don't go." He said, picking up her bags.

"I have no choice," she sighed, gathering the cases in her arms. She tried to get all of them in her hands, but Emmett took the larger ones and followed her out to her waiting taxi.

"At lease let me take you to the airport," he said, hoping he's be able to then create a diversion.

She refused. "I need to say goodbye to Paulette, first," she said, and reached up to touch his face. "Besides, if I rode with you, I might not ever be able to leave the car."

Emmett placed his hand over the girl's, and sighed. "That was the point," he said, looking into her eyes.

She quickly dropped his hand and looked away. "Call me if you're ever in Malibu," she said, forcing a cheerful laugh that sounded more like a whimper. Elle cleared her throat and climbed into the back seat.

The cab pulled away from the curb, and sped up onto the street. Emmett broke out into a sprint and began chasing the taxi. "Elle!" he screamed, running faster than he ever had.

Elle only rolled up her window and looked away.


	3. Give My Love to Harvard

Elle walked into the Hair Affair, and spotted her best friend sitting at the vanity. Rufus, her beloved dog, sat is her feet, asleep.

"Elle!" Paulette cried, stand up to greet her friend. "What's the matter?" She asked, rushing up to this frazzled mess.

"Paulette, I just came top say goodbye," the girl sighed, trying hard to hold back the tears.

"What?" the hairdresser exclaimed, pulling her friend into a hug.

"I'm going back to California," Elle said, pulling away and wiping her eyes, "back to where I make sense.

Paulette grabbed Elle's arms and looked her in the eye. "Honey, you're not making any now. What's going on?

A single tear rolled down the girl's cheek, followed by an entire waterfall. Paulette pulled her into a chair, and kneeled down next to her.

"All of this time," Elle sobbed, "I thought I was proving myself, and making a difference." She paused, whipping here eyes. Paulette handed her a tissue, and she wringed it in her hands. "But it turns out that I'm just one big blonde joke, and that's all that anybody's ever going to see."

"Oh, Honey," the woman cooed, wrapping her arms around her friend, "there, there."

Elle shook her off and stood. "I need to go back, go back to where I belong. Please don't try to stop me." Her friend just nodded, and grasped Elle's hand.

The girl walked towards the door, pausing to turn around. "Thank you, Paulette, for everything," she said, "and please tell Emmett I said…I'm sorry."


	4. Any Last Regrets?

Elle sat in the airport terminal, waiting for her plane to come and take her far away from the east coast. Bruiser sat on her lap, and she absently petted him as she dialed her mother's cell phone number.

"Hello, Mommy," she said to the voicemail box, "It's Elle. I just wanted to tell you that I quit school, and I'm coming home. I'll see you in a few hours. I love you."

She flipped her phone closed, and sighed. She was doing the right thing, she was sure of it. Harvard was no place for a girl from Malibu. Warner was right, she wasn't serious enough for law school. She didn't belong.

She closed her eyes, and leaned her head back on the wall. She couldn't get Emmett out of her head. The look on his face when he saw her with those bags, the desperation in his voice when she said he was leaving, and the determination as he chased her down the street. He needed her, so he said, but she knew he was better off. Now he could concentrate on his own career, getting his mother that house, working on the chip on his shoulder, rather than tutoring a waste of time.

Bruiser whined, and she realized that her grip on his rhinestone collar was tight. She let go, and nuzzled the pup.

The stewardess come up and tapped Elle on the shoulder. "Miss," she said, "you can board now."

The girl sighed, nodded and stood. She picked up her purse with her empty hand, and got onto the plane. Her seat was large enough for both her and her dog to sit together. They both watched the on-flight movie, although she was too distracted to remember the storyline. He body was in the clouds, but her head was in New England.

_I made the right decision, I made the right decision,_ she told herself, although she had the feeling that perhaps she didn't.

Malibu welcomed her with open arms. Her pink convertible was at the airport to pick her up, and once she got home, she was surprised with a Welcome Home Party. Elle greeted her friends with false enthusiasm, even though she was delighted to be back at home. Her parents had invited distantly-related movie star cousins, as well as every girl from Delta Nu.

Questions bombarded her, a little too close for comfort, but far enough to keep her head level. "Did you really meet Brooke?!" "How did you deal with all that black and white?" "Did you catch the last episode of The Bachelor?"

Her own mind was full of her own questions, however. _Did I make a mistake? Did I leave the wrong people behind? Can I go back for him?_ Or even more important:_ Will he come back for me?_

_

* * *

_

Sorry about the short chapters, I'll try to write them more frequently.


	5. Moving Mountains

Here you go, FelineMimiDavis, and everyone else. . I hope I don't disappoint you!

* * *

Elle emptied the large pink suitcases into the laundry chute for Rosemary, the maid, to do tomorrow. After putting away her shoes, and come to her last bag, a large waterproof one for toiletries. She upturned it into the sink, revealing her toothbrush, hair products, and loads of makeup. She carefully placed all of the items in her cabinets, followed by her hair appliances in the drawers of her sink. One last bottle was left. 

She reached in and pulled out the half-empty blue container. She was able to read the words "2-in-1 Hair Care" before the words began to blur. Tears dropped onto the smooth plastic in her hands, and Elle steadied herself by sitting on the edge of her bathtub.

No, she told herself, it's over. She got up to throw away the bottle (any Cosmo girl knows that healthy hair needs the dual power of separate shampoo and conditioner), but stopped. This was the most thoughtful gift she'd ever received. Every gift from Warner was simply the most expensive designer cut of the latest jewelry fashion. Her parents had always just graced her with brand names. This gift from Emmett, however, was special. Sure, it was a three-dollar bottle of shampoo-conditioner, but not to Elle. He had thought about her, really tried to find something perfect that she's appreciate. Her feelings hadn't been on the back burner, and he strived to get her something that would be worth more than a retail value. Her feelings were worth more to him.

Elle placed the two-in-one on the edge of her tub, and started a bath. She poured in some bubble bath, lit a few candles, and striped of her party clothes. She needed this time alone.

The water was warm, and she leaned back and relaxed. She needed to breathe, to wash her face of her salty tears, and think.

Harvard was no place for a girl like Elle. People needed to concentrate on the facts of the matter, on getting the job done exactly how it was intended to, and on being serious about it. A prima donna party girl had no right to step in and try to change decades of tradition and ways of thinking. She was a goldfish trying to survive in the ocean by attempting to convince the sharks to go after someone else.

Warner was fine on his own. She knew that, and someone deep inside her, she had always known that. She could be anyone's arm candy, an anyone who would have made it into an Ivy League school without a call from his father. Plus, he had Vivian, with whom he could "Kennedy" away with.

Elle was going to miss Paulette. She had become her best friend, her only friend who had truly been there for her in her tomes of need. She was strong enough for herself, although she could get week in the knees, and enough for Elle. They could remain best friend, and still visit on occasion. And who knows, maybe the Hair Affair may decide to move to a new, warmer location.

Emmett was another story all together. Elle knew that Emmett was fine, and was better off by himself. Now he didn't have this clueless mishap to baby-sit, and he could work on giving himself, and his mother everything that she could never give him. It was simply selfish for her to chase after him. She was, after all, letting him be free of this parasite she had become. Sure, she wanted him, but was it mutual? It couldn't be. She just had to cut these strings, and suffer for a bit. She could drown herself in others, new men, friends, parties, and maybe even a film audition or two. She could make the pain go away if she ignored it, told it to leave, and concentrated on something else. Who needed to feel, after all, when you were in Malibu? She could only hope that Emmett could let go of her.

No! She cursed herself for thinking that again. Of course he would be able to let go. This was D-Day for him, how could he expect him to need her like she needed him? He would never run back to her arms and away from the liberators, that was a fact. A fact that she needed to accept.

"Elle?" a voice came, following a rapping on her bathroom door.

"Come in," the she said, submerging her head to hide all traces of tears. Kate come in, and sat down on the edge of the tub. The bathing girl was thankful that it was Kate; she needed someone practical to talk to.

"Elle," Kate said, looking down at her friend through the piles of bubbles, "are you ok?"

"Fine, why?" she asked, trying to sound nonchalant.

Kate sighed. "I don't know, it's just…weird. You were so set on getting into Harvard, and you did. Then, any time someone talked to you, you'd gab their ear off about how well you were doing, and how much you loved it there. And now…you're back. You just quit. There has to be a reason."

Elle paused, and blew some bubbles away from her face. "Kate, have you ever seen a mountain in the distance, and thought that it looked as small as a hill?" The girl nodded, not understanding the metaphor. "Well, you think, 'That hill isn't so big, I'll bet I can move it,' and you chase after it. But once you get to it, it's so large, not what you expected." She paused, waiting for her friend to catch up. "However, you still try to move the mountain. But then you realize that what you're doing is a waist of time. You'll never by yourself move a mountain that had been there forever. And maybe…maybe that mountain is you. And you can't move it."

Kate sat next to her friend, and thought. "I guess," she said after a few moments, "I guess you may be right."

"I am," Elle confirmed, "and I'm ok. I'm going to be ok."

The girl stood, and headed for the door. "If you say that you're all right, I'll trust that you're all right." She opened the door, and began to leave.

"Kate?" Elle called. The girl looked back in towards the mass of bubbles. The blonde bit her lip. "Thanks," she said.


	6. A New Elle

Hey, guess what? I made up this person's name. They don't exist. Any person with this name or likeness is merely coincidence. OK? . Enjoy

Oh, next chapter is Emmett. Don't worry, I love him too.

* * *

Elle woke up at nine in the morning, thankful for the ability to sleep in later than she ever had at Harvard. She dressed in her favorite pink bikini, one that had been left at home, and slipped on a pair of D&G sunglasses. Catching a peek at herself in the mirror on the way out, she realized that nothing had changed, besides her slightly paler skin tone. She really was the same old Elle, and was almost thankful for it.

Down at the pool, the warmth welcomed her as the sun kissed her skin. She had forgotten the blissful pleasure of basking in her own star's rays all day. It truly had the power to rejuvenate after any crisis.

Minutes melted to hours as Elle lay in complete happiness, or as close as she had gotten in the past few days. Suddenly and without warning, however, she was pulled from her trance as someone called her name.

"Elle?" the male voice said. The girl, sat up, surprised, and looked up at her visitor.

"Yes," she said, a little uncertain.

"Elle Woods?" the man asked again, grinning.

"That's me, but who are you?" The voice's owner smirked. He had straight, white teeth, and blonde, clean-cut hair. His bright blue eyes sparkled in the light, and he stood about six feet tall.

"My name is Grayer. Grayer Corrin the fourth," he told her. Elle shoot her head; she didn't know him. He continued. "I've met numerous girls for Delta Nu, friends, no doubt, who speak fondly of you. They all went in a tizzy when they heard you'd be coming back home. So, I figured I'd have to meet this famous woman."

"I was the Delta Nu president," she said, hoping to explain the girls' fondness of her. Grayer just laughed, a sound like honey. He motioned to the foot of her lounged pool-side recliner.

"May I?" he asked.

"Of course," Elle said, sitting up to give him room. She brushed the falling hair from her eyes, loving this flirt.

"You seem pretty incredible, you know, he continued, "battling an Ivy League and all."

"That was nothing," the girl said with a wave of her hand. She gave a wise smirk. "But my heart really belongs here."

"To anyone in particular?" Grayer asked, looking her square in the eye. She batter her lashed at him and grinned.

_Emmett!_ her mind screamed, _Emmett Emmett Emmett! _

Contrary to how she felt, she pushed her feelings far from her. "No," she coyly answered, "why? Have anyone in mind?"

"Oh," he said, pretending to think about the question, "maybe a guy or two."

She laughed, and sat up straighter to be closer to the boy. Grayer smelled like soap and mint gum, with a hint of the newest Dior fragrance for men.

"Tonight," he said, tracing over her hand with his fingers, "there's going to be a party at a house near the Beckinsale Manor. Not exactly a frat party, but no Harvard get-together, either." Elle laughed.

"You don't say," she said, as if she didn't understand his request.

"Would you do me the honor of accompanying me?" he asked.

The girl thought for a moment, and smile. "I'd be delighted to, Mr. Corrin."

Grayer lifter her delicate hand, and kissed it. "Until tonight," he promised.

This boy was a charmer.


	7. Realizations

Emmett sat at a plastic table across from a blonde in an orange jump suit. She looked bored, and a little hurt that he a come alone, and not with his usual partner.

"I can't believe that Elle just left," Brooke said again. Emmett nodded, trying not to let it affect him. "God, Callahan is such an ass."

"You got that right," the man said, "and he doesn't even care."

"Can I fire him?" she asked.

"You can do whatever you desire, Miss Windham," Emmett told her, knowing that he was getting nowhere on his hunt for her alibi.

Brooke sighed. "I can't fire him, not at the rate I'm going," she paused, "God, I wish Elle was here. Now _there's_ a girl who knows where she's going."

"Yes," the attorney agreed, "right back to Malibu."

The inmate scoffed. "Don't be so soar about it. It's not like she left because of _you_."

"No, but I'm sure I didn't help her want to stay any."

"No, you're right," Brooke sighed, rolling her eyes. What had Elle seen in this guy? "It's like she cared about you or anything."

"What are you talking about?" Emmett asked, although he didn't really want the answer. What he wanted was to change the subject, get Brooke's alibi, and get out of here. All these beastly women were frightening.

"Emmett," Brooke said, leaning forward to grasp his entire attention, "listen to me. This may come to a complete shock to you, I know, but get this: Elle has a thing for you. Had. Has. Anyway, she's completely weak in the knees for you, and you're completely oblivious."

_What?_ How can this be true? How had he not known? Were they talking about the same Elle?

"And _how_ do you know this?" he asked, still skeptical.

"Because she wouldn't stop talking about you!" the woman cried. God, this guy was an idiot. "She said that she tried flirting with you just about every day since the internship started, and you never batted an eyelid. So she figured…I guess that you didn't feel the same way." Brooke leaned back in her chair.

"That's insane!" Emmett yelled. "How could she possibly think that I felt anything short of complete adoration?"

"Yo," the woman said, picking at her fingernail, "you're telling this to the wrong Delta Nu girl."

She was right, and Emmett knew it. He began frantically shoving his papers into his portfolio. "Thank you, thank you, thank you, Mrs. Windham," he said, standing to leave, "You've helped in more ways than you know." He hurried to the door, but paused to turn around.

"Go ahead and fire Callahan," he called to her, "I'll defend you…when I get back from Malibu."


	8. Flight Reservations

I don't know if the Malibu International Airport exists, and if it does, I don't own it.

Um, I need to apologize here for a sec. I'm going to be out of town for the holidays, and I can't promise any updates until January. I can promise that I'll try, however, and will update whenever I can.

Please don't throw stones, and safely enjoy whatever holidays you will (Christmas, Kwanzaa, Hanukah, Chinese New Year, Presidents Day, Arbor Day, National Talk Like a Pirate Day, etc.)

Now on to the story that you like better than me.

* * *

Emmett rushed home, faster than he's ever driven. However, once he got to his shabby apartment, he realized that he didn't know where his phone book was. He tore it apart, digging in all his drawers and cabinets. He finally found it housing dust bunnies under his sad excuse for a couch.

"Airlines, airlines, airlines," he said to himself as he slipped though the pages. "Aha!" He traced his fingers over the digits and he dialed the numbers in his cell phone.

"Boston Airlines," an automated voice answered, "please hold while your call is being transferred. Your call is very important to us." Emmett would have laughed if he wasn't anxiously pacing across the room.

Sad music played into his ears as he sat back down, tapping his feet wildly. His impatience began to rise, and he began fidgeting like a mad man.

"Boston Airlines," a female voice droned, "how can I help you?"

"Yes!" Emmett shouted, jumping to his feet. "Hi. Um, I need to book a flight."

"Of course you do, sir," the woman said, obviously bored.

"Yeah," he replied, silently cursing himself for his hastiness. "I need one to Malibu, as soon as possible."

The woman sighed. "All right, sir, let me see." She clicked on her keyboard for a moment, sighing every few seconds. "There's one leaving tomorrow at five in the morning. Sixteen stops and you'll be at the Malibu International Airport."

"Um, do you have anything more direct?"

"One more moment, sir." The woman sounded as if he were inconveniencing her. "Here we are," she said again, after what seemed like hours, "one flight from Boston to Malibu, direct flight. It's for Thursday, and the last ticket. Sudden cancellation. Otherwise, we're booked until three weeks from now. Would you like to book it?"

"Yes! Yes, yes, yes," Emmett yelled, elated, "Yes, book it for me."

He went through the process of handing over his identification and credit card numbers in a daze. He was going to see Elle. On Thursday. What day was it today? It was Friday. Damn, he had a week to wait!

"OK, Mr. Forrest, your flight is booked. Thank you for booking with Boston Airlines, and we hope you—"

"Yeah, thanks," Emmett interrupted and hung up. That was that. He was going to Malibu to get the girl. He laughed; thinking of himself as a hero seemed like a little bit of a paradox. No matter, he was going.

But then a thought struck him: when he got there, how would he find her? Malibu was huge, and full of beautiful blondes, so he couldn't just wander the streets. Well, whatever his was going to do, he had a week to think about it.


	9. Starting Over

Merry Christmas. Yep, another Elle/Grayer chapter for all of you fine people. I love you, too. .

Please don't through stones, I happen to love Grayer.

Now, I have up to Chapter 15 written in this handy notebook on my hap, but I have to go to the local library and spend 30 minutes at a time typing and posting, so forgive my delays.

* * *

Elle released her final lock of hair from her curling iron and looked up into the mirror. Her perfect ringlets fell around her face and traced her shoulders. She added a bit more lip glass and smiled. Tonight was going to be fun.

She slipped into a light pink halter dress and heeled sandals, and admired her reflection in her full-length mirror.

_Perfect_, she thought. Who said that she couldn't be happy and superficial at the same time? Ignorance was bliss, after all.

The doorbell rang from down stairs, and Bruiser stood up on his pillow. Elle kissed him goodbye and grabbed her clutch before heading to the door.

Grayer stood in the doorway, impeccably dressed. His tight Ralf Lauren tee showed off his muscular frame, although was toped by a brick-red track jacket. His three-figure designer jeans looked worn and faded, although it was obvious that they were brand new.

"Elle," he said, when she opened the door, "you look wonderful."

"As do you," she mused, reaching up to play with his gelled blonde spikes. "Nice product," she complimented with a laugh.

The young man held out his arm, and his date took it. "The night is young, and so are we," he said, leading her out to his cherry red Cadillac.

They arrived to an already full throttle party, but when they walked through the door, everyone stopped and cheered.

"Forget about Elle and Warner, these two are unstoppable!" cheered a current Delta Nu girl, obviously already tipsy.

Elle blushed, and squeezed Grayer's arm. He nodded, and led her down the corridor to the lounge. A DJ played the latest tunes while a mass danced to the beat. A woman walked by with a tray of drinks, and Grayer handed Elle a pink glass with a tiny umbrella, taking a gin for himself. They silently toasted and clinked glasses.

_To a new life_, the girl thought.

The danced together for what felt like hours, making playful conversation and gazing into each others' blue eyes. She loved having him close and in his strong arms, she felt safe.

Grayer led her off to the side of the room, and out onto the pool deck. The water was luminous blue, and the stars shone bright overhead.

"Elle," he said at long last, lacing his fingers through hers and pulling her clo9se, "you truly are incredible."

He leaned down and kissed her full on the mouth. As his perfect lips pressed against hers, she felt a smile spread across her face. He was a much better kisser than Warner had ever been, that was for sure. She couldn't help wonder, however, how this kiss would compare to—

_No!_ she scolded herself. _I'm here with Grayer, not with…anyone else._

Grayer pulled back, and Elle grinned before slowly opening her eyes.

"Wow," she whispered. Although it hadn't held her undivided attention, it was a great kiss.

Annoyed with herself for having drudged up the not-so-distant past, she wanted to re-try the kiss. She reached up and held the back of his neck, leading his face back down towards hers.

Maybe coming home wasn't such a bad idea after all.


	10. Roxbury Slums

This doesn't really carry the story any, but we really need to see that relationship with Emmett and his mom.

This chapter, and the following that I have written, are kind of slow-moving. Please tell me what you think. If they're too slow, I'll edit the next few. Please please please let me know, because it's your opinions that will edit this story.

Enjoy!

* * *

Emmett woke up late Saturday morning, and lay in bed for another twenty minutes. He had spent the entire day before calming his nerves, and how he had to will up enough energy to get out of bed.

He pulled on a grubby tee-shirt and an old pair of jeans, and headed out to his car. In no time, he was driving up in front of his mother's Roxbury apartment. Thankful that his car wasn't anything fancy, he locked the doors and entered the building.

"Hey, Ma," he called, walking into the cramped apartment.

"Emmett!" his mother screeched, running towards him form another area of the room. Her baggy clothes accentuated her already frail frame, and her brown hair frizzed from her messy bun. She opened her arms and took him into a hug, her head only reaching his shoulder.

"Emmett, look at you," she mused, "you're as hansom as them all. But look at your shirt. Is it even clean? You're a Harvard lawyer and you can't even get a clean shirt?" She whacked him in the back and made him strip of his shirt, throwing it into a hamper on the couch.

"Oh, here," she said, walking into the nook of a kitchen. She picked up a plate covered in yellow squared. "Lemon bars," she announced.

Emmett took a bite and moaned in pleasure. "Ma, I'll tell you what," he said, "you know the way to a man's heart." He laughed, and took another bar.

"Eat up," his mother instructed, setting down the plate and walking away, "you're too skinny." She picked up the laundry detergent and basket, and called back to her son. "I'm gonna go throw in a load. Go find a shirt, no one needs top see you running around half naked."

And with that, Emmett's mother was gone. He popped the rest of his lemon bar into his mouth and wandered off into her bedroom. At the bottom of her closet sat a box of assorted clothes, and hue dug until he found a shirt in his size.

By the time he got back to the main roon, his mother was coming in.

"So, Emmy," she said, plopping down on the couch and patting the cusion next to her, "what's new?"

"Not much since last weekend, Ma."

"You never call me during the week," she accused. "How do you expect me to know all about your life when you never call me?"

"Sorry, Ma," Emmett sighed, however loving listening to his mother. "Let's see…nothing new with Callahan's case…not much new in school…I got a letter from a kid in high school. Oh, and I won't be coming next weekend." He hoped the last part came off more nonchalant than he knew it did.

"What?" his mother cried, "for heaven's sakes, why not? It's Callahan, isn't it? Making a poor boy like you work so hard for him. I outta go right down to that school and give him a piece of my mind!"

"No, no, Ma," the boty laughed, throwing his arm around his mother's shoulders, "I'm going out to town. To Malibu."

"For heaven's sakes, why?"

"Ma, remember that girl, Elle, I told you about?"

"Yeah," the woman recalled, "the pink one?"

"That's the one. Well, Callahan was being an ass as usual, and made her think she didn't belong. So Thursday I'm going to find her, and try to change her mind.

"Oh, my, that sounds lovely." She paused for a moment, looking her son in the eye. "This is love, isn't it?" she asked.

"Yeah, Ma, it really is."

Mr. Forrest brushed the hair form her son's face, and let a hand rest on his broad shoulder.

"Good," she said, "more people need to know that love is. It's a gift, and I'm proud that you know it."

"Thanks, Ma," Emmett sid, hugging his mother.

"But don't think for one minute that you're going to get away with cursing in this house," she interjected, "and while you're cleaning out your vocabulary, why don't you get a haircut? You look like a hooligan, not a Harvard graduate."

Emmett spent the night on the couch, the place he called a bedroom for many years, after enjoying a home-cooked meal of meatloaf. The next morning, he let his mother sleep in, and when she awoke, he had a piping hot stack of flapjacks with her name on it. They spent the day scrubbing the floors and doing laundry, but laughing every minute of it.

It was late afternoon by the time Emmett pulled yesterday's shirt, not clean, over his head.

"I'll call you when I get back," he promised, hugging his mother.

"Go get her," she urged.

"Oh, Emmy," she called when he was halfway out the door. "When you get that girl back, bring her over. I've got to meet this person who causes you to glow like this. She must be really something."

"Oh, Ma," Emmett grinned, "she is."


	11. Is it Love?

Elle slept in until eleven on Monday morning. She dreamt all night of her weekend with Grayer

Friday night, they'd left the party and went to a café downtown. She didn't get home until well after midnight, for they'd sat and talked until the café closed.

Saturday night, Grayer picked here up an hour early and they went for ice cream. They walked along a pier with their desserts, basking in the sunset. They'd stopped at a small Mom and Pop jewelry store, and he bought her a simple silver bracelet. They even lest the party early and drove to the coast, walking hand-in-hand barefoot on the beach.

Sunday he picked her up mid-afternoon, and they went for a picnic. Grayer had packed all finger foods, and they fed each other lunch. For dessert, they had hand-dipped chocolate covered strawberries. They skipped the party entirely, and stayed on the hill, wrapped in a blanket, watching the sunset and stargazing. Only one star shot across the sky, but they both missed it because they were kissing.

This felt so right. It felt better than it ever had with Warner. Elle admired Grayer, loving every minute she spent with him. She also loved that they could have fun together, and it didn't have to be at the weekend parties. Maybe it was hasty, but just before they'd said goodnight, he'd murmured, "I love you," into her ear. If nothing else, she was sure that this was true.

The girl arose and quickly showered. She pressed the 'play' button on her cell phone voice mail machine as she came back into her room.

"Button," her father said from the recorded message, "I must tell you: I'm having a big stone waterfall put in by the pool. They'll be working on it Monday to Wednesday, but, Button, it'll be all ready Thursday. So why don't you have over a few friends?"

There was a beep on the machine, and the next message played.

"Elle!" Margot squealed, "My cousin from New York is coming Thursday morning. You _must_ throw an Elle woods Party, yours are the best! Call me!"

Elle laughed, making a mental note to tell Margot about the pool.

"Elle, it's Kate," the next message started, "Um, we need to talk, ok? So give me a call back, ok? Bye."

Elle rolled her eyes and quickly pressed 'Delete.' That girl could be a Godsend, but sometimes just a pain.

"Elle?" said a familiar voice on the last message, "It's me, Paulette. Where ya been, girl? I haven't heard form you in forever! Call me! Oh, and you'll never guess what? Kyle the UPS guy asked me out! Guess what his middle name is? Call me and I'll tell you!"

Elle sighed. She missed Paulette, the only regret she let herself have. She needed to talk her friend into coming for a visit.

She picked up her phone and dialed the too-familiar number of her Delta Nu sister.

"Margot," she said to the voicemail, "It's Elle. Thursday is on. My place, pool party. Spread the word."

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**OK, you guys. I need to know how you feel. The next few chapters are written, and kind of slow paced. It'll be a good four chapters or so before Emmett gets to Malibu. So if you are thinking, "Are you nuts? Hurry up and post! Don't lame out my fic by posting 100 chapters! Get to the action!" than I'll edit them.**

**PLEASE let me know, this is** for you!


	12. Party Plans

"Let's say roughly 200 guests," Elle estimated into the phone, "So we'll need lots of different cocktails and basic snacks as refreshments."

"Two hundred?" the events coordinator on the other line asked.

"Give or take. This _is_ a Malibu pool party for college aged kids, so even if we have half the guests planned, the drinks will be consumed." Elle smiled at the thought of her great party to be.

After the conversation ended, she shut her phone and tossed it onto her bed. During the planning, she had been admiring herself in her outfit for tonight. It consisted of a new Dolce & Gabbana bathing suit, canary yellow. It was a strapless one-piece, but the top and bottom were only held together by a thing piece of material down her midsection. She topped it off with a pair of heeled thong sandals and a long necklace, and almost resembled an early black-and-white Twiggy print ad.

She's spent Tuesday roaming department store after department store for it, after a morning in the spa, with Margot, who's gotten a blue Fendi suit.

They'd spent Monday lounging out by Margot's pool, but she'd stressed the entire time about the arrival of her cousin (apparently high-class and hard to please), so Elle had suggested the next day be one of utter relaxation—and shopping.

Grayer had left early Monday morning for a screen test for a movie in San Francisco. He had promised Elle that he's be back in time for her party, but she hadn't heard from him all day, which made her antsy. Instead of worrying about him, she decided, he's think about the plans for tonight.

The guests were to arrive at five o'clock, and it was three o'clock now. Elle stayed calms by making herself look perfect, although there was really nothing to stress. The pool was finished, and decorators were turning it into an enchanting Tiki getaway. The caterers were arriving at four to set up the open bar of exotic cocktails, and the DJ was to come at roughly the same time. Selene and Margot, along with her cousin Vanessa, were coming over at four-thirty to help greet the guests as they arrive.

Elle picked up Bruiser, not sporting a pink pair of swim trunks, and kissed him on the head. Nothing could ruin tonight; it was too perfect.

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**OK, thanks for the helpful reviews. Sorry, though, about the shortness of it. Here's how I'll make it up to you: the next chapters about Emmett! Yay! . **

**I have this REALLY long court-room chapter that takes place on "Monday," but I decided to please it out. Maybe I'll put it in last as an Outtake or something, you know?**

**Anyway, I'll update in the Oh-Eight. Happy New Year!**


	13. Airlines and Airways

Emmett sat alone in the airport terminal. He had not checked any luggage, nor had he brought any carryon. He'd been afraid that bringing any bags may slow him hard, but now he wished he at least had brought a book.

He looked down at the boarding pass in his hands. The plane was to arrive at four o'clock. He's have no issue getting out and into a cab because all he needed was himself. He didn't know the address of the Delta Nu sorority house, or how far it was from the airport, but after researching it online a little, he was confident that any cabbie would be able to take him there.

He sighed and glanced at his watch; he still had an hour before boarding. He knew he shouldn't have come so early, but just sitting at home was out of the question, at least being here made him feel like he was doing something. Oh well, at least he could get some shut-eye, perhaps more than he had gotten in the previous nights.

Before he knew it, Emmett was sitting in a cramped plane between two old ladies speaking loudly in Yiddish. The cabin shook violently during take-off, and one of the women stilled her vodka on his pants. Every time he tried to tune them out and snooze a little, he awoke to one of them calling him a "_Shmendrik_."

The plane began to descend, and the captain announced the local time: three-thirty. Emmett changed his watch and yawned; it was six or seven-thirty back home.

The world below steadily grew larger, and the wheels touched the asphalt. Emmett gave an excited stretch that woke the two sleeping women. The grumbled, but he ignored them, and instead looked out the window. This was the farthest west that he'd ever been, and he was determined to take in as much of the scenery as possible while keeping his mission number one in his mind.

"Ladies and gentlemen, this is your captain," came a voice over the intercom. "There is going to be a slight delay in pulling into the terminal. The plane there now is experiencing engine trouble. We're sorry for the inconvenience."

Emmett's heart sank. He needed to get off and go find Elle, not sit here and be insulted by old Jewish women. Seconds, minutes, hours; however long he'd be there was too long.

The plane sat still. Passengers became irate, and just when a riot seemed the only possible future, the plane began to move. They backed up and taxied around the airport top another terminal. It had only been an hour, but to Emmett, it was one eternity after another. He quickly passed through the airport and dodged around the luggage carousel (hearing one of the woman call him a "_Shlub_" as he ran past), and though the doors.

The late afternoon sun hit him like a wall, but only slowed him momentarily. He ran to the street and began to wave his arms like a madman.

"Taxi!" he called, and climbed into the first car that slowed.

"The Delta Nu sorority house," he exasperated, out of breath.

Emmett began to relax as the cab pulled away from the curb. He read the clock on the dashboard, and noticed that it was five o'clock. He sighed, and sniffed, smelling an odd odor. He found the site of the stench, and realized that it was him. The still stain of his pants reeked of stale alcohol.

He leaned back and caught a glimpse of himself in the rear-view mirror. He looked tired and disheveled; no way could Elle see him like this. He rubbed his eyes and ran his hands through his hair, but quickly gave up when he noticed his efforts were useless. What he needed to do was relax. He sank into the seat and looked out the widow.

Expensive cars passed by full of tan partiers. Celebrities in sun glasses carrying shopping bags and miniature pooches walked the sidewalks. People in catwalk-esq. fashions strutted past. And the palm trees! Never before had Emmett seen so many exotic plants in such a setting (botanicals gardens were something else completely).

He drank it all in, and was surprised that it was nearly six o'clock when the car stopped. "Keep it running," Emmett instructed as he climbed out. He turned around and was floored. Before him stood a huge, three-story, pink Barbie Dream House. He stifled a laugh as he muttered, "Hello, Kitty," to himself, and knocked on the door. Got this was an Elle Mother-ship.

A perky blonde answered the door, looking surprised.

"I'm looking for Elle Woods?" he ventured, peeking inside the pink-on-pink mansion."She's at home," the girl squeaked, "you going to the party?" she must has seen the confused look on his face, because she revised her question. "You want the address?"

"Please," Emmett responded, thinking her with his eyes.

"Sure, come on in." she led him inside the foyer and sat him on a pink, fluffy couch. He sunk in, and tried to climb out, settling awkwardly for perching on the edge.

"Can I get you a drink?" she asked. "A daiquiri, a martini," she sniffed the air, "a vodka?"

"Um, no, thank you," Emmett replied, laughing nervously and covering the spot of his jeans.

The girl grabbed a pink note pad shaped like a heart and a pen attatched to a head of feathers. The feathers swished through the air as she jotted down the address, and she handed him the paice of paper.

"Fifty-three nintey-six Sunset Boulevard?" he asked, catching a whiff of scent permiating from the paper.

"Great street, my aunt lives here," she giggled. "I'd be at the party, but Kate's making my stay here and study. You know, after Elle got in to Harvard, Kate's been halping us get in to other post grad schools. Too bad I'm missing the party, though. I heard it's the bash of the year!"

"Well, thank you," Emmett said akwardly, standing. The girl jumped and escorted him to the door.

"You just may see me ther after all," she suggested, "the MCAT can wait."

Emmett nodded, surprised that she was trying to get into a medical school, and thanked her. Back at the cab, he handed gthe driver the pink note.

"This is back by where we came from," the driver warned.

"That's fine, I have the money," Emmett replaied and relaxed into the seat again.

It was a quarter to seven when the cab pulled up to the large, multi-million dollar estate. Emmett paid the cabbie, both happy to be free of one another, and faced teh mansion. It was large and clean, surrounded by beautiful landscaping, and utterly picturesque in the warm colors of the sunset. The lights and osunds coming from the back yard suggested the party that the Delta Nu girl was talking about, but Emmett headed for the front door. His stomach fluttered as he rang the bell. _This is is!_

* * *

**Wow. If you had any idea how long this took me to get up here, you'd probably shoot yourself. . **

**An hour and a half in 30-minute incriments, waiting in between along with annoyed tourists and confused old people. Thank God that Cosmo was there to keep me company. Gah!**

**You better like this chapter, darn it! XD**

**OK, Emmett's in Malibu, and about five-hundred feet away from the love of his life. What happens now? I wanna know what you think. Tell me how YOU think the next chapter will go. Will Emmett punch Grayer? Will Elle refuse Emmett? Will the pool explode? I don't know, you tell me!**


	14. Life of the Party

_Sorry about the delay, guys. I wanted you to wait a few days, but then school got a hold of me. o.O;_

_Lets see how many of your predictions come true? I did use some ideas for future chapters and whatnot, too.

* * *

_

"Great party, Elle!" someone called as Elle stepped through the back door and onto the pool deck. She grinned, facing the throng of guests.

"You look _hot_!" shouted a voice from the mob, leading an avalanche of other compliments. "Awesome party!" "These drinks are the best!" "You're throwing _every_ party!" The calls became a cacophony of sound, to which the top model look-alike acknowledged with a humble nod and a pleased grin.

The bash was a success. Understatement of the year, however, but the thought going through everyone' heads. The ladies gossiped as the men played chicken in the pool, and Elle simply mingled, the most excited at secure that she'd felt since she got here. Everyone had showed up almost directly at five in their bathing suits, but the few stragglers that still came to the door were let in by the party guests wandering the house.

The belle of the ball stood with her friend next to the bar, laughing at the guys' Iron Man competitions in the water. Kate came up beside Elle, wearing a light blue bikini and her trademark hat. The blonde frowned slightly, hoping that her friend wasn't going to revel in the drama that was her life.

"Elle, can we talk?" She asked, looking serious. Elle raised her eyebrows, allowing her friend to continue. "When we had that talk a while ago, when you first get back, I knew that you'd changed. I knew that you were a new Elle, and then Harvard had helped you develop into this brand new person. But it seems like you've forgotten all of that. I know that you want to forget your regrets and get back to your life, but you can't just sink into arm-candy mode and play the dumb blonde all over again."

"Girl, I don't know who you think you are," Serena said, apparently under the influence of her cocktail, "but you can't just talk to Elle that way. She can be anyone's candy if she wants, and you can't just make her stop!"

"Yeah!" chimed in Mel, trying to look angry, but cracking a tipsy smile.

Kate huffed away, throwing Elle a hurt look before turning to a table of a few other partiers in glasses. The blonde brushed off the confrontation, and stepped back into the gossip that was her friends. Suddenly, she was showered from above, and turned abruptly to see Grayer's sculpted body standing beside her. He shook the water from his hair, which sprinkled down as tiny diamonds. Elle squealed, playfully swatting his chest.

"I didn't want to get _wet_," she complained, still grinning. He smiled back at her, and kissed her full on the mouth.

"So," Pilar interrupted, "how'd the audition go?"

"Oh!" Elle exclaimed, "can I tell them?"

"Knock yourself out, baby," he said, shrugging.

Elle picked up a glass of some pink drink and clinked it with a glass stirrer from the bar. "Can I have your attention?" The DJ stopped, and Grayer led her by the hand to the edge of the pool. He listed her off the pool deck like a rag doll and deposited her on his broad shoulders. She laughed, balancing her drink in her hand, and looked over her perspective audience.

"Hey guys, guess what?" she called out, answered by a few "what"s. "Grayer got the part! He's going to star in the newest Spike Lee film!" Everyone whooped and cheered, guys coming over to high-five him. The excitement razzled through him, and gyrating Elle on his shoulders. Her drink spilled onto the ground at the large man's feet, and she giggled, trying to save what was left in the glass. She raised it, getting everyone's attention again. "To Grayer, the future movie star!" she called, toasting her glass and taking a sip.

"No!" countered Margot from afar, "to Elle!"

"No!" Elle called back, swaying from her platform. She giggled. "Here's to…" she stopped, squinting into the crowd. A tall figure stood out among the partiers. "Emmett?" she gasped, dropping her glass, which shattered on the concrete.

"Who?" Grayer asked, searching the faces. His fast, jerky movements jostled Elle, sending her tumbling into the water.

Her head pounded as she floated fully submerged. Emmett? Why was he here? Did something happen? What was going on? Her head was spinning as she climbed out of the pool in a daze.

"Elle, are you ok?" Grayer asked, looking bewildered.

"Fine," she brushed off, trance-like. As she grabbed a towel from the poolside, she realized how the ear-shattering silence crashed in around. Everyone stayed quiet as she shivered in the twilight. Grayer realized that she needed a minute to think, and turned towards the DJ.

"Dude!" he called, "where are the tunes?" The jockey grinned, and began to play more music. The party jumped to life as if it had been on pause.

"Hey," Elle said, walking up to the ghost of Harvard Past, "come inside." He followed her through the ignorant crowd and into the house. They stood in a large, closed-in veranda deck, Elle pulling the towel closer around her.

"So," she began, still nervous and unsure, "it's great to see you."

"Yeah," Emmett stammered, hands fidgeting. "How have you been?"

"Great, pretty great. And you?"

"Um, yeah, pretty ok," he said, agonizing over the small talk, but unable to end it. "We won the trial, the daughter shot him."

"Wow! That's great." She paused, uneasy. "Is…that what you came to tell me?"

"No," Emmett replied. He took a deep breath and cleared his throat. "I came here to tell you," he began. This was harder than he thought. "To tell you…" _C'mon, Emmett, spit it out!_ he yelled at himself. "To tell you that you need to come back to Harvard."

"What?"

"I came to tell you that I need you to come back."

She paused, looking at his curiously. At last, she managed to shake her head. "No," she said.

Emmett's stomach dropped. "What?"

"No, she repeated, _no no no!_ "I can't. That's why I left, so you wouldn't have to baby-sit me. I can't be your burden anymore."

"Elle," he laughed, afraid to take her seriously, "you were never burden…"

"I just…can't," she repeated. Her eyes were holding back tears, and she looked to the floor, praying that he'd leave. Why did he have to come and destroy this fortress she'd created around herself. Couldn't he see that the only thing she could to do help him was to get the hell away from him and let him live his life? A tear rolled down her cheek, and she turned on her heel. He couldn't see her this vulnerable, it might give him hope. It night give _her_ hope.

"What about love?" he asked.

She stopped. Did he say that she thought he'd said? "What?"

"I never mentioned love," he confessed, taking a sheepish step forward. Didn't she understand that without her, his life would be one victory-less battle after another?

"Emmett, no" she sobbed, still refusing to look him in the face, "I just can't." _Just go_.

He smirked. "Aren't you the one who said that love never gives up?" he asked, and didn't wait for her response. "And that love doesn't take no for an answer? And that love conquers all?"

"Yes, I did," she meekly agreed, wiping her tears from her eyes.

"Then why won't you come back with me?"

"Because I don't belong at Harvard!" she cried, turning to face him. Fine, if he wanted to see her weak and broken, he could.

"You don't belong here, either," he told her.

"Then maybe I don't know where I belong," she said, letting another trail find its way down her face.

"You wanna know where you belong?" he asked stepping closer to her. She nodded. "Right here." He pulled her to him, and kissed her firm on the lips. He could feel her quivering with uncertainty beneath him, but she didn't stop.

After a brief moment, he pulled away. She touched her lips as a new wave of tears poured from her eyes.

"Emmett," she began, but her cut her off. He grabbed her again, pulling her into his arms. He didn't car what she said—her actions spoke for her, and apparently she needed him as much as he needed her. Her arms wrapped around his neck, and she pressed the tender kiss into a more passionate one. His body had craved this moment for months, and the anticipation didn't let him down. He didn't care that she was dripping, and his front was getting soaked. He could feel her heartbeats reverberating inside his chest, and her warmth filling his body.

They separated, and Elle grinned up at him with a twinkle in her bright eyes.

"Thank you," she whispered, and kissed him again.


	15. Confrontation

"Elle?" a voice said from the other side of the room. The girl jumped, startled. She was so wrapped up in Emmett—literally—that she hadn't even heard anyone come.

"Grayer!" she shouted, her stomach constricting. He had a look in his eye, something that told her he was a little more than upset.

"Who the hell is this?" he bellowed.

"Grayer, this is Emmett," she explained, standing between the men, "he's a friend from Harvard."

"This is how you treat a friend?" Grayer roared, obviously intoxicated and unusually angry. "What are you, a whore?!"

"Hey! Don't you say that to her!" Emmett shouted, taking a step forward.

"And what are you going to do to stop me?" the large man confronted, poking Emmett's chest. Elle could hear his audible gulp.

"Let's just be civilized, shall we?" he offered. "Talk it out like adults?"

"I'll show you how we can settle this," Grayer commanded, grabbing the front of Emmett's shirt and pulling him back outside.

"No, please," Elle pleaded, running in front of a drunk. "We can talk this out. I'm sorry, ok? Stop, please!" He ignored her, and continued tugging the stumbling Emmett outside. When they reached the door, he flung the small man out onto the pool deck. "Grayer!" Elle shouted, the entire crowd going silent, "Stop it! Stop it right now!"

"Not until he fights me!" Grayer told her, taking a long swig of a beer that he'd obtained, and throwing the empty bottle on the cement.

"Listen," Emmett said, standing up and dusting himself off. "I don't want to fight. I think we just need to—"

He didn't finish. He couldn't finish because he was on the ground. Grayer had swung his giant fist, which had collided with Emmett's face and sent him flying. Elle Rushed to his side, and helped him stand. He looked down at her with pure admiration and wiped the blood from his nose.

Elle approached Grayer, and slapped him across the face. "Get out," she warned through gritted teeth, "and don't come back." She turned on her heel, and marched back to Emmett.

"You brought this on yourself!" the large man called after her.

"The party's over!" she shouted, ignoring his comments. She grabbed Emmett's hand and led him into the house, blowing off everyone who came up to her.

Inside the bathroom, she sat him down on the toilet and retrieved a wash cloth. "Here," she instructed, "hold this on there, and tip your head back."

"I know, I've been hit before," he retorted, slightly annoyed with her nursing.

"Yeah, but never for me," she muttered, pushing a hair from his forehead.

He looked up at her, and removed the washcloth from his face. "No, you're right," he told her, "and never once has it been this worth it."

She gave a sad smile, and took his free hand. "I'm so sorry," she whispered.

"Don't be."

"No, not just about this," she sighed, "about everything. About leaving, about never calling…but I had such a good reason." He raised his eyebrows, and she hopped up on the counter. "I couldn't let you ruin your chances of getting into a great firm because of me. I couldn't bear being responsible for you being stuck taking care of me, while I should have never been there in the first place. I couldn't tell you how much I need you and loved you, because you had to need and love someone else. Someone better for you than me."

Emmett stood in front of her, and took both her hands in his. "Elle," he said, thankful that his nose had stopped bleeding, "the only reason why I let you go was because I knew you had to find someone better for you than I was." He laughed. "But then I realized that even a few days without you was pure agony, and I knew that I had to get you back."

She laughed, wiping a tear from falling down her cheek. "So we both need each other," she compiled, "and there's no one better for each other tan ourselves."

"Pretty much," Emmett agreed.

"I love you, you know," she whispered.

"I always have loved you," he said, "more than you'd ever know."

"Oh, I think I know," she suggested, and kissed him. "Probably about as much as I love you."


	16. Author's Note

**OK, guys, I've decided that this is the end of our fanfic. I won't write any more of "Just Let Me Be," but I'll be writing a sequel to it, starting off when Emmett and Elle get back to Harvard.**

**Thanks for everyone who read and reviewed for this fic, and I hope you continue reading on! Stay tuned!**

**"Just Let Me Be" is officially Completed!**


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